


Broken Wings

by Akiko_Natsuko



Series: Flight of Fancy - McHanzo [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, Friendship/Love, M/M, Missions Gone Wrong, Past Torture, Secrets, Wingfic, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-17 05:28:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16510235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akiko_Natsuko/pseuds/Akiko_Natsuko
Summary: Hanzo loves McCree's wings...McCree just wants to see Hanzo's, but it seems as though he might have to wait forever until a mission forces the issue.





	Broken Wings

    McCree could feel the dark eyes boring into his back as he stretched, shivering a little under the intensity of it, but he couldn’t resist playing up to them. Rolling his shoulders, he let his tawny eyes, preening at the soft gasp that greets the action. There were many things he was ashamed of, and even more that he liked to keep hidden out of sight, but his wings had never been one of them. Especially in moments like this, when he can tilt his head just in time to catch the adoration in Hanzo’s eyes, and the way that the archer’s hand is half raised as though to reach out and touch them. McCree feels his expression softening and he immediately takes a couple of steps back towards the bed, moving within reach and trembling as he immediately feels calloused fingers beginning to gently brush through his feathers.

     There had been a time, not even that long ago, when he would never have trusted anyone to get this close, to touch him this intimately. He’d always kept his wings concealed around others unless it was a matter of life and death, and his control over that had never wavered, not even during the height of passion. Hell, it had taken him nearly two years to open up enough to let Hanzo see them, let alone touch them, but now… he swallowed leaning into the tender touch. Now, he couldn’t get enough of those ever-gentle touches, a low rumble rising in the back of his throat, almost a purr as he moved closer, silently pleading for more.

“Your wings are beautiful,” Hanzo murmured as he gave into the silent pleading, but there is a wistfulness to his voice that makes McCree turn so that he can see him properly and his heart aches at the longing he can see in the dark eyes, the anguish. “Jesse…?” Hanzo questions with a frown, unable to remember the last time that McCree had pulled away from his touch and he lets out a startled noise when McCree moves suddenly, closing the distance between them in a single step and stooping as he tugs Hanzo into a tight hug, wrapping both his arms and wings around Hanzo.

“Hanzo…” He knows that he shouldn’t say it, that he shouldn’t ask, but he can’t stop his fingers from wandering, sliding up to stroke over Hanzo’s shoulders and feeling the slightly raised flesh where the archer’s wings are currently hidden, feeling the way his partner flinches away from the gentle touch. “Hanzo, I…” _I want to see your wings too. I want to touch them…love them…_ In all the time they’ve known each other he’s never even caught so much as a glimpse of Hanzo’s wings, he doesn’t even know what colour they are and it’s a question that consumes his thoughts far too often, although he’s careful to conceal that thought from Hanzo.

“I can’t…” Hanzo is trembling for another reason now and McCree bit back a sigh, wishing that he understood why the other man was so terrified just by the idea of showing his wings. If it was just a fear of intimacy he would have said so, after all he had been clear enough in his desire for them to take things slow when they’d first moved their relationship forward, moving past the point of arguing constantly and being little more than ‘civil’ teammates. He had always been vocal about what he wanted and how he felt, and the fact that Hanzo won’t say what’s bothering him about his wings worries him, but he wouldn’t push, because Hanzo as private as he was… as haunted as he was… had opened up to McCree, letting him in when even now he kept most of the others at a safe distance, and it was that thought that allowed him to pull back and offer his partner a sad smile.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, not allowing himself to hesitate over the words. Instead he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to Hanzo’s forehead and carefully using a thumb to wipe away the solitary tear that had fallen, his wings slowly folding away as he added quietly. “I’ll wait.

“What if…I can’t ever show you?” The words tiptoe out and for once Hanzo’s expression is completely open, devoid of any type of mask and McCree aches at the raw fear he can see in the dark eyes. The fear that he might just disappear if Hanzo can’t give him what he wants, and he finds himself fighting back a growl. Just what had happened in the past to put that kind of expression on his face? What had happened to make him fear his wings so much? Not even Genji seemed to know, although the younger man might just be reluctant to tell him without Hanzo’s permission, because whilst he was more than willing to grass on his brother for minor things, anything personal or serious was treated like a state secret.

“Then I’ll wait forever,” McCree replied, realising that Hanzo was still watching and waiting for his reaction, offering him a warm grin and holding his gaze. He can see that the lack of hesitation in his voice, and the steady gaze is working, Hanzo slowly relaxing in his arms, lips twitching up into that small, half-smile that McCree had come to cherish and for now that was enough.

**

   Hanzo double checked the door to their quarters, making sure it’s firmly locked. He’s secure in the knowledge that he’ll have at least an hour to himself as McCree was currently up in the infirmary having his prosthetic checked over after a slight malfunction on their last mission, and he takes a deep breath before moving into the middle of the room. Their earlier conversation if replaying in his mind as he slowly peels of his top, baring his back and shoulders, and his hands are trembling as he reaches up to run his fingers over the raised bumps. It feels nothing like McCree’s gentle touch and he snatches his fingers back and takes a shuddering breath. He doesn’t even know if he can still bring them out, it’s been years…decades, since he had last exposed his wings and he closes his eyes, fear pooling in his stomach as the memories surge up.

_Cruel hands clutching at his feathers…tearing them…destroying them…_

     The memory hasn’t been that vivid in months, the images flashing through his mind and he can feel his breathing speeding up, remembered terror engulfing him.

_I can’t do this._

     The fear in his stomach is growing, swelling until he feel’s like he’s going to be sick under the leaden weight of it and his eyes fly open with a shuddering cry, gaze darting around wildly, searching for any sign of danger. Instead he is confronted with the proof of the life he is living now, and of McCree’s presence in it, their belongings so intermingled at this stage that it’s hard to tell what belongs to the other, and somehow that it making everything worse. McCree has given him everything, become everything to him, but the one thing he knows that his partner wants even if he won’t say the words aloud, is also the one thing that Hanzo can’t give him. And despite McCree’s words and the promise to wait, Hanzo can’t help but wonder just how long the other man will be able to keep that promise, because no one would wait forever without the promise of something changing. He can feel his eyes stinging now as he staggers across to their bed, sinking down onto the end of it and burying his face in his hands.

_How long can I hold onto him, when I’m stuck like this?_

****

Two months later:

    McCree scowled as he realised that he was being pushed back again, only this time it seems as though nothing they’ve attempted has brought them remotely close to breaking through Talon’s lines, and an icy feeling of dread begins to creep in. It’s not the first mission to go like this recently, and he can’t stop his gaze from darting up to the rooftop to his left where he can just make out Hanzo’s shadow as the archer tried to thin the ranks a little and create an opportunity for them to move forward. He knows that it doesn’t explain everything that’s been going wrong, but he can’t help but feel that the tension that has slowly seeped into their relationship over the last couple of months is partly to blame. Their previously seamless teamwork faltering more and more with each mission, and he can’t help but feel that’s not the only thing faltering between them, his fingers fumbling for a moment as he reloads his gun, his teeth clenched, because he doesn’t know what’s going on, what’s gone wrong between them and he hates it.

   He should’ve known better than to get distracted at a time like this, it’s a rookie error, something he would’ve done back in the early days of Blackwatch, and he realises it a split second before a shiver runs down his spine and the world explodes around him.

   It hurts. There’s pain in his arm as his gun falls from suddenly useless fingers as he finds himself flying backwards. It’s matched by the dull ache that settles in his chest as he struggles to breathe, fighting to focus long enough to force his wings out, his clothing making the task harder than usual, and then there’s heat pressing in on him, flames flickering all around him before the ground seemed to disappear beneath him. In the split second it takes his mind to catch up with what is happening, he’s falling, terror flooding him, and his fingers claw at the air as he realises that he’s not going to get his wings unfurled in time.

_I’m going to die._

    It’s the first thing he’s been certain of since the world had exploded, and his thoughts immediately jump to Hanzo, regret and grief consuming him as it occurs to him that he’s never going to find out what went wrong. The tears are building, threatening to fall and he squeezes his eyes shut in an attempt to stop them, trying to block out the reality of what’s happening.

_Hanzo, I’m sorry…whatever I did, whatever went wrong between us…I’m sorry. I love…_

“JESSE!” The shout barely registers over the roaring in his ears, but there is no missing the feel of a warm body slamming into his, hands frantically grabbing at him. Nor can he miss the fact that his fall has slowed, and his eyes snap open and for a moment all he can see is shimmering blue-black, feeling wings brushing against his skin with each desperate beat. He’s confused, not understanding what’s happening, but then he glimpses a familiar tattoo and his mouth drops open as he flings his head up, finding himself staring into Hanzo’s eyes, eyes that are filled with determination and terror in equal measure. McCree is stunned, unable to think, unable to process what his eyes are showing him. But then Hanzo’s fingers are digging painfully into his arms, desperate words washing over him. “Your wings… I can’t…I can’t keep us aloft on my own.”

    It takes longer than it should for those words to register, but as soon as they do McCree’s eyes dart back to Hanzo’s wings and his mouth goes dry as he understands what his partner means. The archer’s wings are nearly as broad as his, and they are a beautiful, shimmering mix of black and blue feathers with hints of purple where the light catches them…but they’re broken, tattered, the feathers looking as though someone had taken a sharp knife and torn them apart, and McCree’s breath catches at that realisation, a dull ache that has nothing to do with his injuries forming in his chest. _Who did this? Why would they do this…?_ However, the questions are driven from his mind as Hanzo frantically shouts his name, reminding him of the current danger and he forces himself to focus, gathering his strength and forcing his own wings out, feeling his shirt tearing to accommodate them.

    He spreads his wings wide the moment their free, wrapping his arms around Hanzo and clinging on with desperate strength, barely managing to catch an updraft in time to slow their momentum. It’s enough to stop their landing being fatal, but the impact is still enough to leave them stunned as they land in a heap of tangled limbs and wings.

    McCree is the first to recover, pushing through the pain to roll over so that he can look at Hanzo, taking in the way his partner is huddling in on himself, wings drawn protectively around his body as though to hide himself. He hesitated for a moment, breath catching once more at the sight of the damaged wings, marvelling at the fact that Hanzo had managed to stay aloft long enough to reach him, let alone that he had managed to keep them both in the air just long enough. And it is the fact that Hanzo had gone so far to save him, exposing the one thing he had been keeping hidden for so long that forces him to move, hissing as he shuffles forward, reaching out with trembling fingers to touch the shimmering feathers. He sees the shiver that meets the touch and he knows how it must feel, but he’s also unsurprised but pained to hear the sob that follows, and its enough to encourage him to close the rest of the gap between them, gently gathering Hanzo against his chest, mindful of his wings.

“Hanzo…”

“Don’t…” Hanzo whispers, his voice hoarse and frighteningly fragile. “I…” Somehow McCree has a feeling that he doesn’t want to hear the next words, and instead he lets his hands drift lower, each movement slow and deliberate to show that he isn’t a threat as he gently begins to touch Hanzo’s feathers again. The top ones are soft and pristine, but it doesn’t take long for his searching fingers to find the damaged ones, the feathers coarse to the touch, but he doesn’t care, doesn’t falter… because he’s finally been able to see them, able to touch them with his own fingers and in his eyes, they’re more beautiful than he could’ve ever imagined. “What did you say…?” The strangled whisper tells him that he must’ve spoken aloud, and when he looks up it’s to find that Hanzo has shifted enough to stare at him wide, disbelieving eyes…but it’s the glimmer of hope that he doesn’t quite manage to mask that catches McCree’s attention and he smiles, slow and warm and sincere.

“I said that your wings are beautiful.”


End file.
